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I wrote my first novel for the man who put me on his shoulders and showed me the world, happy Father’s Day

That’s my father, he died many years ago on a business trip to London.

And being my father’s daughter, this is the deal—this portrait of him is a link to my Hollywood novel, click and it’ll take you to Amazon. Hold onto your hats for a rare “non-fiction” moment, I wrote my father into the book.

Why is it the deal? Because one of the things my dad taught me was to stick with a project and to push it as hard as you could, as big as you could, all the time.

When things went south a couple of years ago and my publishing deal disappeared in a flash of— something—one of the reasons I didn’t stall out was because of Dad’s influence, to quote:

Personally, I think of it like this; over time, the loss of my parents faded, and they joined “the ancestors,” that group of guiding spirits within that many “primitive” peoples throughout the world pay attention to. Be that as it may, here is a parallel story:

One sunday afternoon, when I was the 3d grade, I was whining about some arithmetic homework due the next day. My mother showed me repeatedly what to do, but it really was difficult, so I continued to whine (angling of course, to get her to do it for me). At some point she got fed up, really angry and said, “You are going to stay in that chair until it is done,” in the voice that meant no loopholes.

As a result, I sat there until I figured it out. I cannot tell you how many times that visceral lesson – “I bet I can figure this out” – served me in school and at work. “Ancestors” or whatever you want to call it, the blessings remain and sometimes we get to see it.

Thank you!
It’s funny how those visceral lessons resonate, and I wonder if our grandparents and great-grandparents handed them down.
I get that feeling sometimes when I look at their pictures, it’s almost like a shock of recognition, the “I am them” moment.

Okay, Ms Vickie; this freaks me out. Have been planning a post for today which revolves around the kitchen scenes with Anne and her father in It’s In His Kiss because, because…..I really like them….and now you tell us this Bob is based on your dear Dad and today (well yesterday for me) was the anniversary of his death. See how well you wrote him in to your book….his influence extends all the way to a small kitchen on the other side of the world. HUGS.

You are insightful. Maybe the kitchen scenes resonate because they’re almost true, I think I wrote “Bob” because I felt like having some conversations with my father. He was a very good guy, a fun mix of erudite, practical, and humorous. You would have liked him. xox, V

Vickie, your reply to Gallivanta was deeply touching. Reading that you wrote Bob Brown in part to have conversations with your father is beautiful and squeezed my Heart. Of course, I did not tear up… (I’m lying…!)